


Just Another Wasteland Adventure

by SerChristoph



Category: Fallout 3
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-18
Updated: 2019-02-18
Packaged: 2019-10-31 03:33:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,532
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17841665
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SerChristoph/pseuds/SerChristoph
Summary: The Capitol Wasteland plays host to many wacky adventures. Yet sometimes the people you travel with are even wackier.





	Just Another Wasteland Adventure

**Just Another Wasteland Adventure**

“Thanks for agreeing to help me with my scavenging.” Moira, the eternally cheerful engineer said happily as she practically skipped along the grey-brown wasteland, kicking dirt up gleefully. “You really are a super research assistant.” She smiled sunnily, stark in contrast with the dreary landscape all around.

Her companion, and apparent research assistant, Michael, walked alongside her. His assured, confident gait mismatching with Moira’s frolicking.

“It’s not a problem,” The usually lone wanderer replied, eyes casually skimming around for trouble. In the few years since he’d left Vault 101, that was the one thing he’d learned above all else, there was usually trouble afoot. “I’m just glad I caught you before you left Megaton, you shouldn’t be out here on your own.” He reprimanded the redhead lightly.

Moira waved off his concern with a laugh. “I can handle myself.” She assured him as she jumped onto the remains of a metal barrier, balancing herself with arms flung out wide. “I didn’t always have super research assistants to get me supplies you know.”

“I know, I know,” Michael suppressed a little smile as the engineer wheeled her arms around for a moment to keep her balance.  “I just- Well you know as well as I do that anything can happen out in the wastes.” The wanderer’s gaze returned to the rocks, rubble and shells of houses around them.

“Oh I know,” Moira turned to her companion with a serious expression, brow furrowed deeply. “There was this one time, I was out looking for some parts, and I came across a pack of Deathclaws! Do you call them a pack? Maybe a herd? Anyway, they were hanging around some old factory that I really wanted to check out.”

“What did you do?” Michael half sighed with a weary smile, well used to the engineer’s ramblings.

“Well, I didn’t have anything on me that could scare them off, and it seemed a shame to try and kill them when all they were doing was just wandering about in the wrong place.”

Trust the eccentric redhead to be worried about a group of very powerful, very deadly beasts, Michael thought with a shake of his head. If there were a hundred Super mutants between her and the last fresh water supplies in the Wasteland, Moira would probably worry about finding them all warm, woollen mittens before even thinking of getting a radiation free drink.

“But you didn’t just walk away I take it?” Michael questioned with a raised eyebrow. Having known the engineer for quite some time now, the wanderer found it hard to believe a few Deathclaws would stand between her and some precious salvage.

“I was going to, but then I didn’t need to.” Moira replied happily. “When I just gave up on poking around inside the factory, I heard some shouts and laughing from behind me. I ducked down behind a car, then from round the corner a group of men came up. I could tell right away they weren’t good guys.” The redhead’s nose shrivelled up in disgust. “They were slavers, I saw the bomb collars on their belts.”

Moira seemingly chuckled at the memory before continuing. “I waited until the slavers had passed by me. They saw the Deathclaws too and gave them a lot of space. Then I took out some mole rat meat I’d had on me, it was just going off so it was beginning to stink really bad.”

Michael’s lips lifted into a grin, liking where this was going.

“Just before they had gotten too far, I hurled the meat at the slavers, it hit one of them right in the back off the head. You could hear it slap when it landed on him, like a really wet, smacking sound. They had no idea where it had come from.” The redhead laughed at her tale. “The Deathclaws caught the sent right away, they looked up and started walking over. When the slavers noticed, they tried to shoot them, but that just made them really mad.”

“Wow,” Michael intoned with a chuckle, “I take it you sneaked past and made it to the factory without a scratch?”

“Pretty much,” The engineer smiled sunnily, “Though I did get a nasty cut on my hand when I jumped in through the window. It left a scar, here.” She held up her hand to display a very small pale line near the base of her palm, barely a couple of centimetres long.

“You poor thing.” Michael muttered sarcastically, earning him a playful shove from the redhead. “If that’s the worst that happens when you meet Deathclaws I should bring you along more often. I’ve gotten bigger scars than that fending off mole rats.” The wanderer chuckled.

“Maybe, or maybe I should be avoiding you. You always seem to get into big trouble when you go off on your adventures. Maybe you’re just bad luck. That’s why you need me to turn things around.” Moira threw back with a teasing smile.

“Hmm, you’ve got me there.” Michael muttered only half-jokingly. “In that case I’m glad for your wisdom and experience Miss Brown.” He finished with a mock bow. The engineer giggled at that.

The pair carried on their journey like that, picking their way along the haphazard wasteland, joking and chatting with each other. All the while keeping wary eyes out for any predator, beast or otherwise. After a while the duo crested a hill that looked over a broad valley of ruins and wreckages. At a glance, Michael could tell that all of it was pretty much picked clean, an increasingly familiar sight these days. He wondered what would happen to the Wasteland when absolutely everything of even the slightest value had been claimed and there was nothing left to survive on. Would everyone just up sticks and leave? Where would they go to?

Movement caught the wanderer’s eye, a few figures were congregated in a torn up street, a short distance away from the mass of skeletal buildings. There were four of them in total, and a Brahmin, a trade caravan?

“Hey, look down there.” Michael drew the attention of his companion. Moira turned to face the group, she thrust her head forward and squinted her eyes to get a better view.

“Ooh, is that a caravan? They might have some good stuff!” The engineer piped up excitedly.

“Sure, but they might also be raiders or slavers or something.” Michael began, but the redhead was already making her way down the ridge towards the strangers. “Hey! Be careful, you never know what people are like!” He jogged down the slope after her.

“It’ll be fine!” Moira waved off his concern and carried on regardless. “If they’re bad people I’m sure we can handle it. That’s why you came along isn’t it?” She piped up cheerily.

Michael silently wondered how on earth the redhead had managed to survive as long as she had in the post-apocalyptic world. The wanderer quickened his stride to catch up to her.

Before they drew the notice of the figures Michael caught Moira by the arm. “Hold on, let me go in first.” The redhead pouted theatrically at his apparent nonsense but she didn’t argue.

The wanderer drew his rifle from his back and moved in closer. Not wanting to start a fight unless he had no choice, Michael carried the gun low, fingers resting over the trigger guard. Just daring enough to show that he had the means to defend himself, but not threatening enough to say that he was about to blow someone’s head off.

As he walked closer, he got a better view of the figures ahead of him. Two of them were facing away, one in combat armour, the other with a cloak over their head. But with the other pair, Michael could have sworn he recognised one of them. One was clad in dark leather armour, an assault rifle hung clearly over his back and stern expression on his face – the look of a hired gun if ever Michael had seen one. The other wearing a large beige coat, covered in straps and pockets, a pair of biker goggles hung around his neck, a slightly wild expression on his face as he conversed with the hooded figures.

Michael felt his whole body relax as he realised that it was Crazy Wolfgang and his bodyguard, the Capital Wasteland’s resident mad junk dealer. Wolfgang’s bodyguard finally noticed the approaching lone wanderer and whispered something to Wolfgang. The merchant looked up Michael’s way and waved him over. The wanderer returned the wave with a smile and turned to beckon Moira over. The redhead gave him a look that oozed: _I told you so_.

The wanderer turned back and nearly doubled over. The figure in combat armour had turned around, a familiar, stern yet good natured face greeted him. “Officer Gomez!” Michael called out to the security officer. The vault cop cracked a small smile and moved to shake hands with the wanderer.

“Damn, kiddo, didn’t expect to see you out here.” The officer laughed, Michael noticed hair starting to grey. “Though it’s Chief Gomez now.” He lightly chided Michael.

“Chief? I’d have thought you’d be slowing things down old timer.” Michael prodded good-naturedly.

“Hey now, someone’s gotta keep you nuisance kids in line.” Gomez shot back with a smirk.

“Hey, Michael.” A third voice chimed in. Michael turned to see the last figure had turned around as well, lowering their hood to reveal yet another familiar face.

“Hi … Amata.”

“Long time no see.” The brunette woman offered somewhat cautiously.

“I guess so.” Was Michael’s only reply. Amata chewed on her lip a little, was she embarrassed? Gomez’s eyes warily darted between the pair for a moment then moved over back to Wolfgang.

“Hey there!” Moira popped up alongside Michael, blissfully unaware of the sudden tension. “Friends of yours?” She asked the wanderer. “Ooh, more vault strays?” She eyed Amata’s blue uniform.

“Moira, this is Chief Gomez of Vault 101,” He indicated Gomez who gave the engineer a friendly smile, “and this is Amata Almodovar, Overseer for the Vault. Gomez, Amata, this is Moira Brown, Megaton’s resident engineer and inventor.”

Amata took her seemingly appraising eyes off of Michael and smiled warmly at Moira. “Pleasure to meet you Moira.”

“Likewise,” The engineer shook the vault dweller’s hand enthusiastically, “So you’re the Overseer, I’ve heard a lot about Vault-Tec’s technology but I haven’t had a chance to properly check any of it out yet. Do you think that I could get a chance to come in and have a nosy around? I’m sure there’s all kinds of goodies hidden away down there.” Moira’s green eyes practically sparkled as the possibilities galloped though her mind.

Amata appeared a little taken back by the redhead’s enthusiasm. “Err, well we don’t really let outsiders inside the vault, for security reasons, you understand.”

Moira’s shoulders dropped and her bright smile gave way to a disappointed pout. “Aww, ah well, maybe another time then.” She looked almost devastated.

Michael placed a reassuring hand on the engineer’s shoulder. “We can get you inside another vault, there’s plenty of them out there.”

“Oh, Really?” Moira’s eye’s brightened again, looking into the wanderer’s with wonder.

“Sure, just- just not the one with all the clones.” Disturbing memories of a legion of Gary’s rose to the fore of Michael’s mind, a shiver went down his spine.

“Ooh, I remember you telling me about them! That could be interesting too, and fun!” Moira wrung her hands in anticipation.

Michael raised his hand in warning. “I- maybe.” He allowed with a resigned chuckle as the engineer practically squealed in delight. She nearly danced her way over to Wolfgang who immediately started his sales pitch.

Amata sidled up besides Michael. “She’s, err, _interesting_.” She commented quietly. The emphasis she put on “ _interesting_ ” stirred up more than a little irritation inside the wanderer.

“She’s a good friend,” he spat out, a little more aggressively than he meant too, “and she’s helped me survive out here. More than anyone else has.”

“I- I’m sorry … I didn’t mean anything by it.” Amata managed to get out slowly.

“Forget it, it doesn’t matter.” Michael turned away from her and paced away from the group, feeling like it was necessary if he wanted to avoid an argument.

Amata didn’t take the hint though. “I’m sorry,” she offered, following after him, “look, I’m glad that you’ve got friends you can count on out here.”

The wanderer fixed her with a sceptical eye in response.

“I am. You look like you’re doing well for yourself.”

Michael’s irritation did not abate, but he kept it in check as he replied. “I’m not sure anyone is really doing well out here. You’ve just got to survive. It’s a whole different world to the Vault.” He paused in his pacing. Standing arms crossed facing away from her.

“Well you haven’t just survived, from what I can tell your thriving. You never used to be this confidant back at the vault.” Amata offered, seemingly genuine.

Michael said nothing to that, preferring to cast his gaze out over the horizon. A dull clang reached his ears as a sign fell down from a ridge above them, everything else was still, the wanderer noted with narrowed eyes, not a gust in the air.

“Listen, I- I’m really sorry about how we left things that day. I’m sorry that I kicked you out-”

“Get down!” Michael shouted out, pushing Amata to the ground. A shot rang out loud and dirt flew up from a hole inches from Amata’s face.

Not waiting for a second, Michael heaved the Overseer up with one arm and drew his rifle with the other. Casting his gaze back, the others had already ducked down below a ridge just beyond the road. The wanderer sprinted to the makeshift cover, dragging Amata all the way. He practically threw her into cover, the woman too shocked to think.

Dirt and stones flew as Michael slid into cover, barely avoiding the barrage of bullets and lasers that burrowed their way into the earth and tarmac behind him.

“Everyone ok?” He called out over the cacophony of weapon fire. Casting his gaze about, he saw the forms of Moira and Gomez hunkered down further along the ridgeline.

“Still alive.” Gomez yelled back, before a grenade exploded on the road above. “For now.”

“Present!” Moira provided, brushing dried mud and debris out of her hair with an annoyed pouting expression.

An enraged growl filled the air and Michael’s vision was suddenly filled with shadow. Swinging his weapon around, the wanderer nearly fired. He realised at the last second that it was Wolfgang’s bodyguard rushing into their makeshift cover. Wolfgang himself followed a moment later.

“This isn’t good! Not good at all!” The merchant bawled out, peeking over the ridge’s edge. “My Brahmin!”

Michael slid his head slowly up the bank, careful not to reveal too much to the raiders. Wolfgang’s supply Brahmin was still alive, the commotion had spooked the poor beast and it was doing its best to run away under the considerable weight of scrap goods.

Shifting his weight slightly, the wanderer attempted to get a better view of the attackers. He counted three on the overhang above them. Whether there were any more was anyone’s guess.

“What are we going to do?” Amata cried, clearly terrified. She was the only one of the group without any real combat experience.

Before Michael could say anything, Moira had rushed round to his other side, keeping close to the ridge for cover. She leaned up from her crouching position, chancing a peek out of cover. She brought her head back down quickly as another round whistled through the air.

“Careful!” The wanderer warned. “They’re not messing around these guys.” He got a high pitched chuckle in response, completely at odds with the cacophony of combat.

“Well I can see that, silly.” Moira chastised him without any heat.

“Moira, here take-“ Michael reached for his pistol and came up empty. He glanced up to see the redhead engineer wielding said pistol.

“I’ve got it.” Moira muttered merrily as she lined up a shot. The bullet flew straight towards a raider and caught him under his collarbone. The man went down with a scream.

_Not bad._

“Why don’t you have one of those yourself?” Michael called over with a hiss as a laser zipped just over his head.

The redhead ducked back down below the ridge before answering. “Well, I did have one once, had a nice holster to go with it and everything.” She began explaining, twirling the gun between her hands idly as more bullets and lasers sought them out, earth spitting over them haphazardly. “But then, I needed the holster for something. I think I made it into a drive belt for a generator I was working on-” An explosion of a grenade forced her to pause momentarily.

She scowled over the ridge at the audacity of the interruption. “Anyway, I couldn’t really carry my gun around after that. Might make people a bit jumpy if I’m running towards them with a gun in my hand, right?” She punctuated her point with a laugh. “So I thought about making a new holster, and I was going to get some salvage to make me a metal one, because that sounds so much cooler than a boring old leather holster, but then-”

“What are you two doing!” Michael turned to the frantic looking Amata, eyes wide in fear. “We’re going to die if you don’t do something!”

_Amata Almodovar, demanding my help_ , a resentful voice inside Michael chimed. Still, she had an excellent point. Wolfgang’s bodyguard let out a gargled cry as a bullet caught him in the throat. His corpse flung backwards and landed in a heap, head tilted backwards to reveal the gushing wound under and through the jaw. Michael winced at the sight, not a pretty way to go, but at least he didn’t suffer long.

“Alright … hang on. When I signal, you two cover me.” The wanderer ordered Moira and Gomez and crept along just below the ridgeline.

“Where are you going!” Amata hissed, somehow the noise reached him over the raider assault.

“Yeah, can’t I come?” Moira chimed in, completely serious. Michael turned his head back to level an incredulous glare at the engineer. Amata and Gomez did the same. Wolfgang simply cowered.

“I need you to keep me covered.” The wanderer spoke slowly. “If you don’t then- then you’ll lose your research assistant, and probably your own life.”

“Oh, that would be bad.” Moira seemed to grasp the gravity the situation, at least a little. She turned back to the ridge with something of a fierce glare aimed at the raiders. On Moira’s ever sunny face however, it came across as more of a slightly perturbed pout. Michael found himself chuckling in spite of their predicament.

The wanderer turned and moved along their makeshift cover until he was effectively outflanking the raiders. Their attackers seemingly hadn’t seen him move and were still peppering the others with bullets and lasers, likely too wired up on Jet or Psycho to care about conserving their ammo.

The wanderer looked back again to the others, holstering his rifle for the moment, then held up three fingers, two, then one. Lowering his hand he burst over the ridge as a volley of rounds covered his advance. Not daring to look back, Michael sprinted up the banking and used the momentum to carry himself up to the crest of the raider’s vantage point. He grabbed hold of the ledge and pulled himself up and over, rolling away from the edge. Eye’s immediately up, he spotted the raiders, they hadn’t even noticed him. There were only four of them, all cackling and howling away as they unloaded their guns at Michael’s friends below.

The wanderer felt a small smirk rise on his lips as he drew his rifle from his back and levelled it at the first raider. A short burst, the drugged up marauder went down. The others were pulled from their blood lust stupor and whipped their weapons around. Swearing loudly, their shots went wild and another two fell to Michael’s gun in quick succession. The final raider jumped into cover behind a boulder at the last second.

“You’ve nowhere to run scavver!” The raider yelled out with something of a maniacal laugh. Michael didn’t reply, he dove to the ground quickly as a hail of bullets emerged from behind the boulder. A sharp jolt of pain caught Michael in the arm but he rolled away putting a husk of a car between them.

Glancing down, the cut on his arm was bleeding fast, but was just too shallow to be of any real concern yet. The screech and complaint of metal grated against his ears as yet more bullets ricocheted off the car haphazardly. Michael looked around for any way to move out or get some kind of advantage, there was none. His best chance was to wait for a break in firing and hope the raider finally needed to reload.

_How many bullets does this guy have?_ Michael wondered as the seemingly endless stream of metal flew into the ancient car. At this rate it wasn’t improbable for the husk of the car to be blown into pieces, with the wanderer along with it.

Just when it seemed like Michael was doomed to cower forever, the shooting abruptly stopped, a gurgled cry and a dull thump replacing the blast of weapons fire in the air. Warily, Michael edged his head up, easing his vision up and over his makeshift cover, ready for anything.

The raider was slumped over, face first in the dirt. Still kneeling, his rear was stuck up in the air in an undignified final pose. A pool of blood was growing rapidly from a wound in the base of the raider’s skull.

Eyes more than a little wide, Michael picked himself up from the floor and gradually wandered over. A figure slowly strode up the ridge from beyond the dead raider and Michael nearly raised his weapon before belatedly seeing …

“Moira?” The wanderer burst out incredulous. He barely recognised her, the engineer’s ever sunny demeanour had darkened into a furious scowl. Her face was twisted in primal rage, casting daggers and demons straight at the raider. Michael’s pistol still clenched tight in her hands, still aimed at the raider’s back, barrel smoking ominously.

The fierce redhead turned her gaze to Michael at last and in an instant, her entire form softened from murderous psychopath to the quirky, happy-go-lucky inventor.

“I got him!” She declared with happy laugh. Her face had turned back to sunny smiling as though nothing significant had happened. “I know you said to cover you, but when you got up here we couldn’t see him from below so I said that we should run up here. Your Chief Gomez friend-man didn’t want to, he said it was too dangerous and all, but I said that we couldn’t very well cover you if we can’t see what we’re supposed to be covering could we? He didn’t say anything for a bit so I just jumped up here and I got him!” Moira babbled away as though she was back in her shop talking about some wondrous new machine she’d just built. The sudden shift unsettled Michael for a few moments.

“Yeah … I guess you did.” Was all he could say, keeping a wary eye on her for a few moments. She seemed to register his tension at last and cocked her head at him in confusion. She looked him over for a second before gasping sharply and running up to him.

“You’re hurt! They got you didn’t they?” She grabbed his still bleeding arm, a bolt of fresh pain lanced through it.

“Ah! Easy, it’s alright, nothing too serious.” Michael warded her off with a pained smile. She would not be denied though.

“I’m sorry! If I’d have been quicker then they wouldn’t have shot you and your arm wouldn’t be bleeding like that.” Moira babbled out.

“Moira it’s fine, you did great, really.” He reassured her with a genuine smile, patting her shoulder warmly. The tension left her body at his words with a relieved sigh and she giggled idly.

“We should do this more often, all kinds of things happen out here with you don’t they?” Then, her eyes turned and she gasped sharply again before darting past him.

Expecting another fight, Michael instantly raised his rifle, ignoring the protests of his arm. He needn’t have bothered though, Moira was merely hunched over one of the raider’s corpses. After a moment of tinkering about, she came up to stand with a laser rifle grasped in her hands. Her face illuminated in delight.

“Look at this!” She practically shrieked, turning her prize over in her hands, “Look at the modifications on it! You see that refractor unit,” Michael could not, but he nodded lamely anyway, “I bet that increases the damage output and makes the lasers’ burning more- more effective and …” She trailed off into another elated squeal, hugging the rifle close to her chest like a child would a teddy bear.

Lost for words, Michael merely holstered his own rifle and watched as Moira endearingly examined her new toy, babbling to herself.

“She’s err, quite something that one.” Michael turned to see Chief Gomez standing there, regarding the engineer with a wary eye.

“Yeah, she is.” Michael agreed with a fond smile, turning back to the redhead. She still clenched the rifle in one hand but had moved on to search for other goodies amongst the slain.

“Yes.” began another voice falteringly as Amata approached them, clearly shaken though attempting to keep it together at least. “Well, we really … we really should be getting back. It’s obviously not safe for us out here.” The Overseer’s eyes kept darting about for any more raiders hiding behind the debris. Taking her cue for a moment, the wanderer idly noted that Wolfgang was running down the ruined road, in pursuit of his wayward Brahmin, and all his stock no doubt.

Sighing lightly, Michael turned to his childhood friend, “Look, what are you even doing out here? The wasteland isn’t really safe at the best of times.” He admonished her, not unkindly.

“I know that, but we had to.” Amata stared back at him with resolve, every inch the Overseer. “We need supplies and we need them fast. The fate of the Vault might very well depend on us.”

“But why are you out _here_?” The wanderer indicated the wastes around them. “We’re out in the middle of nowhere here, there’s not another settlement for miles. Megaton is a lot closer and easier to get to from the Vault.”

“We’ve tried that, but we need parts for our water filters that we couldn’t find in Megaton, the supply store was closed.” Amata sighed in weary frustration, “If we don’t get those filters up and working again soon then we’ll have a real problem on our hands.”

Rubbing his eyes with fatigue, Michael sighed, “Listen, Moira’s an engineer, she can probably help if you ask her-”

“Ask me what?” Said engineer literally popped up from nowhere to stand between Michael and Gomez, the two resident vault dwellers jumped in surprise. Michael merely shock his head lightly with a smile, slightly more used to the redhead’s eccentricities as he was. She’d managed to accumulate an impressive collection of scrap machinery, weapon parts and God only knows what else, all nestled in her arms protectively. The laser rifle hung over her shoulder by a leather strap.

“Moira, do you think you could fit something together for a water filter?” Michael asked, rubbing the back of his neck idly.

“Water filter? Oh!” With an exaggerated gasp, Moira suddenly dropped all the parts she was carrying at their feet and dug around in a pack she had. More scrap and mechanical parts joined the pile as the redhead searched in the bag, trying to coax what she was looking for out with gentle murmurings.

The looks on Amata’s and Gomez’s faces were less than confident.

After a short while, Moira cried out “Aha!” and drew forth a seemingly innocuous device. Michael raised one eyebrow as Moira offered it to Amata with a beaming smile.

“One water filter as ordered.” The redhead supplied cheerfully.

“Oh, wow thank you.” The Overseer was clearly taken aback and carefully accepted the gift, as if it was a gift from the gods. “This will be a great help, thank you so much.”

“No problem. If you need anymore, just stop by my shop and I’ll see what I can whip up for you.”

“How much do want for it?"

Moira tilted her head to the side, mouth pouting slightly in thought. “Hmm, nah you don’t need to pay a cap. Seeing as you’re friends with my trusty research assistant and all.” She smiled happily and slapped Michael on the back.

“Oh my, thank you! This is so generous, I can’t thank you enough.” Amata turned to Gomez. “This is just what we need, come on Chief, we need to get this back to the Vault, now!” without further ado she started jogging back in the direction of the Vault, turning only long enough to shout, “Thanks again!” with a wave.

Gomez sighed and made to chase after her, “Thanks, and stay safe out here kid.” He offered the wanderer with a slap on the arm, making Michael hiss slightly, “Sorry.” Gomez winced in apology then took off.

Michael and Moira watched them go for a few moments. “So,” The wanderer began, turning to the pile of metal on the ground before them, “do you think this is enough or do you want to look for more?” He silently prayed that this was enough, it had to be surely, they would struggle getting this much back to Megaton before nightfall as it was.

“Hmm,” the redhead put a finger to her pursed lips in thought, “nah, this will probably do.” She chirped and began to pick everything back up again, scooping as much as she could into her pack and whatever pockets she could find.

Michael sighed before joining her in collecting her bounty. It really was an impressive amount of scrap, he could barely make head or tails of it all, let alone see any possible use for most of it. Still, the engineer thought it was all important so he dutifully crammed as much as he could into his own pack and then a little more that Moira forced in.

Once Moira had been satisfied that everything of note had been gathered together, she gave Michael permission to head for home. The journey back was slow going, given that they were both laden under the weight of a mountain of metal.

“So, your friends seem nice.” Moira murmured happily while bobbing her head back and forth, as if listening to song in her head. “Have they only just left the Vault like you did? They don’t seem to know much about our big old wasteland.”

“I guess so.” Michael muttered in reply. “Though I doubt they’ll stay away from the Vault for long.”

“That’s a shame, I would like to get inside that vault, have a look around. It’s pretty hard to do when all those vault dwellers are living there though.” She pouted in dismay.

Michael just chuckled. “Maybe one day they’ll let outsiders in. It isn’t all it’s cracked up to be though, the Wasteland is a lot more exciting.”

“I suppose. You would know I guess, being an outcast and all.” Moira giggled, playfully shoving the wanderer in the side with her shoulder. Michael merely smirked and shoved her back. “Still, I do wish I could get inside a vault one day. If only someone with a bit of experience in vault raiding could take me.” She sighed ever so dramatically, “A trusty research assistant perhaps, someone who’s willing to go that extra mile for the sake of science.”

“Alright, I guess I could take you sometime.” Michael sighed in surrender. Moira squealed in delight. “Just not the one with the all the creepy clones, once was bad enough.” The wanderer shuddered.

Moira pouted, but it soon faded to her sunny smile. “Thank you. You really are the very best research assistant a girl could have.” She plopped her head on his shoulder with a contented sigh. Michael turned away with a cough in an attempt to hide his blush.

Soon enough they reached the mechanical gates of Megaton. Mayor Simms merely raised an eyebrow as they passed by, well used to the pair’s eccentricities by now. Trudging and skipping their way into Craterside Supply, they finally delivered their haul unceremoniously upon the shop floor. Moira promptly asked Michael to help her sort through the assorted piles of scrap for anything useful. Like the very best research assistant he was, the wanderer obliged with a sigh and a smile.


End file.
